


Durban Skies

by lorrcan



Series: All This Bad Blood [3]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Realism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 01:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17397881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorrcan/pseuds/lorrcan
Summary: The salt quenches and his heart jumps a few beats, trips up and stumbles chin first into asphalt.





	Durban Skies

**Author's Note:**

> present time

Pompeii is fire.  Tall, monstrous, towering flames that lick through every piece of wire, metal, and paint who have created buildings.  Tyler begins by shaking dust from his eyes, then, he moves upwards, as if someone has grabbed his waist with both hands, squeezed tight, and lifted him into the air, his limbs falling back lifeless.  But, there are his feet, lifting him up, setting him up into his joints, hips and knees alike, and his spine straightens out to bring back his shoulders and balance his head onto his neck. His eyes cascade upwards, watching a beautiful sight of the ocean.  

The ocean has flipped upside down, upside down, upside down, and is crashing into the vast skyline that it meets.  It’s like tipping a cup of water onto a mirror, watching the water bounce back up in the reflection, even though the liquid has done nothing but slosh over the edges.  He shuts his eyes, but feels the spray of the nearby ocean on his skin, in his hair. The salt quenches and his heart jumps a few beats, trips up and stumbles chin first into asphalt.  

“Tyler, where are we going?”  

Josh.  He’s here.  Ash hangs onto his clothes, as if he had escaped a burning building, as if he was the one that started it and ran out at the last second.  Fire licks at the ends of his hair, but Tyler isn’t sure if it’s the fire red he dumped on it. 

“Why ask that first?” Tyler responds. A spilling ocean and burning buildings are supposed to bring some kind of reaction. 

The other man finds Tyler’s hand and grabs it, stepping onto a torn off car door and smashed glass.  Tyler holds tight. “Well, I know you won’t tell me.” 

Tyler nods.  

“I’d rather know where we’re going,” he says, “because we’re moving towards something.”  

“And not backwards.”  Tyler pulls Josh towards a patch of grass and trees.

Josh shivers.  “Pompeii destroyed our town.” 

“And it’ll destroy you, if you keep acting like this.” 

“Like what?  Scared?” 

Tyler shoves Josh to the ground, to his knees, where the dirt is soaked with ocean water and the grass is sparse, so Josh’s jeans are immediately chomped upon by the stirring mud.  Tyler thrusts a hand onto Josh’s neck, just under the jaw, so Josh can’t turn his face away. “You are  _ never _ to be scared here.  Got it? Ever. They’ll kill you.”  

His breath gets caught up in his nose, a snort and stifled sniff that doesn’t ever make it into his lungs.  “I know,” he whispers. 

Leaves around them dance, flitter around knees and feet, and Tyler begins to let go of Josh’s throat.  Water rises. Ankle level. 

“Let’s go.” 

Josh gasps, palms to his eyes, face tilted towards the ocean.  “Trench,” he wheezes. 

“What about it?” 

He squints at Tyler.  “That’s where we’re going.” 

Tyler, standing in knee deep water, stares at Josh.  “We’re already here.” 


End file.
